Weekend Space – 4


Mother’s Day, Shmother’s Day.  I am not a fan.

When I was a girl, my beloved Mother (note the capital M) explained to me that it was a commercial holiday, something the merchants designed to boost sales in-between Valentine’s Day and Christmas (that is a long time)  thereby freeing me from the tyranny of buying perfume and scarves or feeling guilty that I didn’t.

This gave me the chance to let my own understanding of Mother’s Day grow in my heart, into something I could honor in the ways I have ever since.  One eensy day?  Why not have Mother’s Day all year long and take one day off from being nice.  Now we’re talking.

In Mexico where I currently live,  Mother’s Day is fervent and trembly.  It is translated into popular culture as getting a chance to be the Virgin Mary for a day.  Masses are held all over town, schools present Mothers with flowers and mementos.  Mothers weep with joy and embrace women they don’t even know, gushing, “Felicidades.” Gas station attendants will give you a rose if you are female and buy gas on Mother’s Day.  God help you if you don’t spend down your bank account and tell your Mother she is the reason for your everything. Jewish guilt in this Catholic country is big.

Really:  Motherhood is its own reward. The miracle and privilege of being a Mother are all the thanks you’ll ever need.

But I live in modern times. Sigh. Mother’s Day is this weekend. Maybe you’re a mother. Maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re a guy.  Maybe you loved your Mother, maybe you didn’t. Holidays are always fraught, aren’t they.

But we all have at least one thing in common. We all have/had Mothers.

So this Mother’s Day, think a thought and lift a glass to your Mum or to her memory. She was thrilled to have you.  And you are thrilled to have you.

Here’s how I’ll be celebrating.

Sipping this dreamy cocktail (the teensy effort of making the red rim adds beautiful to delicious) whilst reading this as usual amazing article by Nicholas Kristoff and making a donation to the charities he posts links to.   Why not do something morally and karmically important on Mother’s Day.   Does Mum really need another scarf?

I’ll spend some time nosing around on this brill website, planning the next adventure.  Thank goodness for the marvelous young people who are dreaming up such internet treats.

You’ll love me for this one.  In five minutes, learn how to make biscuits without a recipe and okay, whip up a batch.  Everyone will think you genius and love you forever.

But most important:  On this Mother’s Day, love yourself. Love yourself as much as your mum loved you. Or as you wished she loved you.  It’s all good. You’re here aren’t you?




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